The Unseen Battle-Field
Source: Pacific Commercial Advertiser. Honolulu: December 4, 1862.
There is an unseen battle-field
In every human breast,
Where two opposing forces meet,
But where they seldom rest.
The field is failed from mortal sight;
'Tis only seen by One,
Who knows alone where victory lies,
When each day's fight is done.
One army clusters strong and fierce,
Their chief of demon-form;
Hs brow is like the thunder cloud,
His voice a bursting storm.
His captains, Pride, and Lust, and Hate,
Whose troops watch night and day,
Swift to detect the weakest point,
And thrusting for the fray.
Contending with this mighty force,
Is but a little band;
Yet these, with an unyielding front,
Those warriors firmly stand.
Their leader is a God-like form,
Of countenance serene;
And glowing on his naked breast,
A simple Cross is seen.
His captains, Faith, and Hope, and Love,
Point to the wondrous sign,
And gazing at it, all receive,
Strength from a source divine.
They feel it speaks a glorious truth,
A truth as great as sure,
That to the victors they must learn
To love, confide, endure.
That faith sublime, in wildest strike,
Imparts a holy calm;
In every deadly blow a shield,
For every wound a balm.
And when they win that battle-field,
Past toil is quite forgot;
The plain where carnage once had reigned,
Becomes a hallowed spot.
A spot where flowers of joy and peace
Spring from the fertile sod,
And breathes the perfume of their praise
On every breeze-to God.
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